Treading Water
by Tenderloins
Summary: What would have happened if someone else found Merle before the Governor did after he escaped off that rooftop in Atlanta? This is an AU journey that will show the strength and vulnerability of a character that we didn't get the pleasure of seeing. I hope. :)


**A/N: So, I'm not sure what I'm doing here. This idea has just been brewing in my thick skull and its getting in the way of Dead Sea. I can't make any promises since I don't know where this is going. All I know is that I have plans. You might not like where these plans are leading so if you can't take heartfail, just don't go on. It might get sad. **

**After that, it might get smutty. Or it might get smutty before sad. Who the fuck knows. So just enjoy :)**

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There were few pleasures that a woman could revel in these days—the feel of the warm sun on bare skin; the smell of a fresh breeze as it rustled the leaves on nearby trees; the sound of popcorn popping over an open fire. So, as Audrey Evans stood on the third floor balcony of the farm house she'd been residing in for the past month, she sighed deeply because there was nothing pleasurable about this particular day. It was cloudy and stinky and all there was to eat was a can of peaches and some stale saltine crackers.

She was just about ready to go "enjoy" those crackers when she caught something moving down by the road. The house sat about fifty yards away from the dirt road; there was a wooden fence that surrounded the property but the stragglers still got in. There weren't many this far out from the city but they were there and their numbers were getting thicker. It was as if they'd run out of food in Atlanta and they had to start wandering farther into the country. The thought made her shudder.

Audrey lifted the sniper's rifle up and onto the railing that she used as leverage. The gun had never been fired by her hand but it had that trusty microscope thingie that she used for lookout. It helped on those days when there were too many dead walking around to do anything outside of the house. Her finger twitched to fire it; take out some of those poor saps that hadn't been lucky enough to stay away from the infected. However, the gun was foreign to her and she'd likely knock herself out in the process of shooting it.

Blinking the fog out of her eye, she squinted to see what had caught her eyes just moments ago. The biter was strange acting—faster than the others and looking more determined. Perhaps he was downwind of an injured deer or something else equally disgusting. Audrey grimaced and continued to watch the thing wobble down the road.

"You gonna shoot it?"

Audrey jumped at the sound, even though she knew he was there. Hell, she'd forced him up there and into that corner. "Do I ever shoot them?"

Cue dramatic sigh. "Nope. I don't get why we have guns if we don't shoot them."

The petite, green-eyed woman holding the gun grinned at the kid in the corner. "Have I not taught you anything the past couple of months?"

Eli rolled his eyes. "This is just so freaking boring."

Audrey went back to her biter-watching. "Yeah, well, in this world, boring is not a bad thing." For some reason, this particular biter was starting to interest her. She'd been watching those things for quite a while, studying their mannerisms and their patterns when she got the opportunity; this one was definitely different. She sucked in a breath when she saw him reach up and wipe sweat off his brow. "Oh shit!"

Elijah hopped up off the floor and moved beside her. "What? Can I see? Did it catch something? What happened?"

The exuberant excitement in his voice was amusing. He really _was_ bored.

"No, it's alive," she mumbled, still watching him. "It's not a biter but…I think he's hurt. There's definitely something wrong with him."

Elijah gave her a nudge with his shoulder. "Come on! Let me see!"

Audrey obliged and let the eight year old peer through the scope; a small smile emerged on his thin lips as he watched. She knew where this was going to lead and she had to fight the urge to tell him "no" before he even asked.

"He _is_ hurt!" the boy exclaimed and pushed the scope back toward her. "Look at his hand!"

She squinted and wished that her eyesight was 20/20 again just like it had been when she was his age. But she saw it, nonetheless—a bloody stump where his right hand should have been. From the distance through the scope, she couldn't tell how fresh the wound was but it had to have been within the past few hours for him to still be walking.

"We have to help him!"

And there it was. This wasn't going to be fun or easy.

"Eli, we can't…"

"Audrey, come on! He's hurt! He's going to die out there unless we—"

She bent down and grabbed Eli by the shoulders. He was so thin that guilt formed a knot in her stomach. How was she supposed to take care of a kid in the middle of the zombie apocalypse? They were eating crackers for dinner for fuck's sake. The boy needed real food and someone to teach him real survival skills. The first chance she got, she was going to hand him over to more capable hands.

"Elijah, we can't just take in a stranger," she said calmly. "What if he's been bit? What if he turns and infects one of us. I can't risk that."

"We can go out there and at least talk to him," he said. "If it were me out there, I hope that someone would at least come out and check on me."

"He could lie to us." Audrey was so bad at this whole parenting thing. She'd never wanted kids and if someone told her six months ago that she'd be taking care of one in this situation, she would have laughed her ass off. Some people just had that natural nurturing instinct that set them apart from other people; but she didn't have it. Audrey was blunt and crude and impatient—not the type of person that should have been Elijah's savior. "Some people just aren't good people and we can't take the chance that he's going to hurt us in one way or another."

The boy's shoulders slumped and she knew she had him. She'd only known him for a couple of months but they had gotten rather attached to each other. But that didn't mean that he belonged by her side. She'd take care of him as long as she could but she wouldn't be able to keep him alive for long.

Shooting him a smile, she stood up and found the man again through the scope. "He doesn't seem so bad off. He's still walking and he'll hit a few farms up the road that will probably keep him safe for a few nights. If he keeps that wound clean, it might heal up okay." The man stopped for a minute and seemed to be examining that same wound she was just speaking of. "I wonder what happened to him. It's weird how he's just…missing a hand. Like someone cut it off. That's why we can't trust some people, Eli. There's a reason why that man's hand is missing and—"

The sound of the front door slamming closed shut her right up. For a few moments, Audrey was in a little bit of shock that she would be disobeyed so easily even though she had zero leadership skills. Then she watched the small form of the eight year old boy run across the front yard, past the big Oak tree and through the flower bed full of dead plants right toward the form of the not-yet-but-soon-to-be-biter.

"You little…" Audrey sneered to no one in particular as she turned around to high tail it through the house. She grabbed her baseball bat on her way out the door, not wanting to waste time on latching the door shut, she cursed and turned around and did it anyway because it took a lot of fucking energy to clear an entire house of those things. If they got in while she played a game of fucked up tag with Eli, it would be just one more problem to add to her list.

By the time she'd gotten the door latched from the outside, Elijah had stalled and was talking to the guy. Audrey ran as fast as she could toward the boy, who was smart enough to give himself some good distance from the injured guy. When she finally reached them, she panted heavily and put her hands on her knees as she gave the guy a good once over.

And it wasn't good.

It was hard to tell how old he was through the sweat and paleness of his face but his tall, muscular body indicated that he was in decent shape. Well, if it weren't for that whole missing hand thing. He had some sort of cloth wrapped around his right wrist where his hand had been removed in a probably not-so-pleasant manner.

"He asked us for help," Elijah said, looking up at her with those puppy dog eyes that had won her over so many times before that she absolutely hated them. Those deep brown irises of his that seemed to convey a deep sadness if he didn't get what he wanted. She wondered often if his mother and father had fallen prey to this look; if he'd mastered it with them when he wanted a cookie right before bed or an in-ground swimming pool. "His name is Merle."

Audrey furrowed her brows and watched the man with narrowed eyes. "How'd you lose your hand?"

Merle swayed on his feet. "Ain't nothin' I can say that's gonna make ya trust me so…" He closed his eyes for a brief moment as if he was fighting consciousness. "…so ya can either help me or point me in a direction where I can get some damn shelter for a bit."

Pouting, Elijah put the puppy dog eyes into full effect. "We have food, Audrey. Bandages."

The man perked up at this but didn't say anything.

"Eli, must you give away all of our secrets?" She said dryly and then turned to Merle. "We really don't have much so…"

"Audrey…!" Elijah hissed and watched Merle stumble a little, holding his injured wrist close to his body. "He's going to die."

"Can ya jus' point me in tha direction of somewhere tha' I can get some shade. I ain't gonna last much longer out here."

"Audrey!" the annoying little puppy dog-eyed child whined.

With pleasure, she grabbed the kid and cupped her hand over his mouth. "There's another farm…about half a mile up the road. I've looted there before and…well, you shouldn't have any trouble finding some place to stay for the night."

Elijah tried to pry her hand off his mouth but she held on tight. Merle watched this exchange with slow, blinking eyes that weren't amused.

"A'ight." He said and glanced up the road. "Fuck y'all too, then."

Elijah stopped squirming at the profanity and Audrey removed her hand.

"That wasn't very nice," the boy noted as Merle started to wander down the road,

Audrey shrugged. "Well, I imagine he doesn't feel very good and when I don't feel very good, I can be a little crabby too."

Eli nudged her side with his pointy child elbow. "I was talking about you."

With each step the angry, injured man took, Audrey felt a little relief flood through her system. If she were to take that man into their house – the shelter that had kept them safe for the past month – she would be inviting death. How stupid would she be to just allow this stranger, this sick, dying man into their home when the world itself wanted to crush them? His steps were slow but steady as they carried his weak body somewhere else, a house miles away for all she cared. Unfortunately, between step number four and five, he collapsed right smack dab on his face. Elijah gasped and went to run toward him but Audrey held him back with a hand on his arm.

"Is he…is he dead?" Elijah squeaked.

"I don't know."

"Well, we can't just leave him," he said. "The biters'll eat him!"

Audrey groaned because the kid was right. Even if he was dead, the biters would sniff him out and a group of them would be on her front lawn in a matter of hours. If he wasn't dead, she couldn't just let them eat him alive. She had no choice but to get this guy into the house or buried – depending upon his status – or they were going to have company in the dead variety.

"You know where that wheelbarrow is that we hull wood in?" Eli nodded enthusiastically. "Go an' get it, will ya? I'll check Mr. Candor for a pulse."

Elijah stood there, torn on missing the show and doing what he was told. Audrey shooed him away as she walked closer to the man on the ground, baseball bat tight in her hand. She poked his shoulder with the end, hoping it would elicit some sort of noise out of him but there was no response. Chewing on her lip, she did it again but this time harder. Elijah came barreling out of the shed with the wheelbarrow, causing all sorts of ruckus as he ran toward them causing Audrey to roll her eyes.

"You do remember the importance of quiet?"

He ignored her. "Is he still alive?"

She sighed, "I don't know. He isn't moving at all. Watch." She poked him with the bat. Nothing. "He doesn't react at all. Stand back. I'm going to try and turn him over."

With her hand on his upper arm – which she added mentally was nice and muscular which meant he could overpower her in an instant – she turned him onto his back. His coloring was nearly gray and his breathing shallow but he was still alive. For now. She had to somehow get him into that wheelbarrow and into the house where, from there…? She had no clue.

"Well, we can try and get his legs up and then his butt into that thing and then maybe we can turn him around." She stared at the porch steps like they'd just sprouted horns. "There's no way in hell I can get him up those steps though. I guess we could put him in the barn."

Eli sucked in a breath. "You can just stick him in the barn!"

She sighed and ran a hand through her dark, red hair. "I guess you're right."

Things went from bad to much, much worse when she heard the familiar sound of a groan come from behind her. There was one staggering toward her, about fifteen feet away—he was limping, much like they all do, and baring its teeth. Taking the one out wouldn't be such a chore but it was one thing she'd learned from watching from the third story patio was when you saw one; more would be quick to follow. They seemed to travel together, picking up on sounds and smells as they wandered through the forest. Probably one of the hazards of living so close to a wooded area were the millions of sticks on the ground just waiting to be snapped.

"Audrey…" Eli whispered.

"It's okay, little man," she said, calmly. "I'll get it."

As she walked toward the biter, she did a fancy little move with the baseball bat, twirling it like a baton for no one in particular. As she approached, she reverted back to her days of playing softball for the local summer league—all time home run champion when she was 13—and let him have it right in the skull. He dropped to the ground with a thud and she smiled at his form, thankful that he'd never get the chance to hurt her or Elijah. The smile didn't last long cause the sound of multiple groans echoed in her ears and caused her stomach to flip.

"For shit's sake," she grumbled as two more stumbled toward her. Behind them were several more.

They had about two minutes before they would be turned into dinner.

"Elijah, go to the house!" She screamed, torn between killing the two closest walkers and running back to the injured man on the ground.

"We can't leave him!" Eli screamed back. "They'll eat him!"

After turning the closest two biters' heads to mush, she ran to Eli—who of course hadn't followed her order—and sank down next to the man. He was still out cold and looking white as a sheet.

"We don't have time to get him in that wheelbarrow. He has to wake up if we're gonna save him." She patted him on the cheek but there was no response. The groans were getting closer. "I have to go take these fuuu…biters out. Try to wake him up."

After she'd taken out five more, she scowled at the horizon. It was a herd of them, coming right toward her. They had to have smelled the blood that was slowly oozing out of the man's wrist where his hand used to be. He had attracted them to their home and put their lives in danger. She couldn't fault him for it but it sure didn't make saving him any easier.

"Any luck?" she asked as she knelt down beside him. Elijah shook his head frantically. "Go to the house. Get inside and lock up." More head shaking. "Eli, listen to me. Go! Now!"

With the sound of her angry scolding, a moan came from the man on the ground. Audrey's eyebrows popped up on her forehead. It seemed the shouting was rousing their new friend. Or enemy, she wasn't sure yet.

"Hey! Wake up!" He moved a little. "Hey! Get up and get your ass moving!"

"His name is Merle," Eli pointed out, trying not to sound panicked but failing miserably.

"Merle! Get your lazy ass up and start walking before you get eaten!"

Wouldn't you know it, he opened his eyes a little.

"Yes! Merle! Get up! NOW! We gotta go!" The closest biter was about fifteen feet away. And the rest were right on his heels. "Dammit! Now, Merle! GET UP!"

"Whaa'…" he moaned and raised his head.

Audrey tugged on his arm until he was in a standing position—wobbly yet stable enough to get walking. Elijah took his other arm and started half-pulling, half-holding up as Audrey did the same on the other side with her bat tucked under her arm.

"See if you can get him to the door! I have to take some of these guys out!"

Elijah looked at her with wide eyes but, for once, did what he was told. Merle stumbled but continued to let the boy lead him to the house while Audrey turned around and held her bat out in front of her. She clobbered the first one and then a second one but the third and fourth were tricky since they came at her at the same time. Luckily, she had been a dancer so she got all graceful on their asses, doing a fancy turn and bash move that killed one and confused the other. By the time she took the fourth one down, Elijah had gotten Merle up the steps onto the porch and they were at the door.

As fast as she could, she hightailed it to them and got the latch off the front door. As she was shoving the two of them in, she counted twelve biters heading in their direction. It was going to be one of those sleepless, noisy nights filled with fear and shaking—a typical lovely evening in the end of the world.

She closed the door and started putting the boards into place to keep the door secure. As soon as her and the kid found the farm house, she'd gotten to work making sure that it was protected from both zombie and the living. With extra wood they'd found in the bard, the windows were boarded up, the back door was reinforced and the front door had a several hooks where they could put temporary two by fours at night. Even as secure as the place was after they went in for the night, she still hadn't slept a wink of restful sleep since the whole world-gone-to-shit thing had started. There was always someone or some_thing_ wanting something which brought her back to the present—Merle.

He'd dropped like a sack of potatoes right on the rug in front of the fire place. They typically didn't light the fireplace since the weather was so warm which meant they couldn't see for shit after the sun went down. And even when the sun was up, the only light they had, filtered in between the cracks of the wood barricades around the windows.

"Eli, I think this calls for the emergency flashlights," Audrey said softly. The moans of the dead were audible through the front of the house. "Can you go get 'em for me?"

Eli glanced at the front door and took a deep breath.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his little hand. "We're safe, remember? Ain't nothin' coming through that door, alright? Grab the first aid kit while you're up there."

He managed a small smile and ran up the stairs to grab the flashlights they kept on hand. Audrey bent down next to the man and wondered just how she got herself into these kinds of situations. This guy could die at any minute and he could turn; she'd have to be on her toes all fucking night. She cocked her head and studied the man—he had short brown hair that seemed to want to curl on top, a strong jaw and broad chest. If he wasn't sweating infection and on his death bed, he would have been her type—all man and muscle and crude. It wasn't that she wanted to be attracted to foul-mouthed men; it just seemed to happen that way. Maybe it was her Catholic upbringing but the word "fuck" coming from a man, in most circumstances, made her toes curl. Merle was no different—he'd proved just minutes ago that he could mutter out a good "fuck" like the best of them. Pretending to be offended was her natural instinct—a trait that her momma had welded into her as a young girl.

If her mother could see her now…

Audrey smiled at that thought because she hadn't seen her mom in years. She wondered if she was still alive in this whole mess. She doubted it. Unless you could kill zombies with a fifth of vodka and a pocket full of crushed cigarettes, her mother wouldn't have had a chance.

Elijah bounded down the steps, making as much noise as his sixty pound self could manage which earned him a what-the-hell look from Audrey. He ignored that and knelt down next to Merle, setting a flashlight down and handed her the kit.

"Is he going to be okay?" Elijah asked.

Audrey wanted to tell him the truth: That no, he'd never be okay because someone chopped his mother fucking hand off. And they had no antibiotics; no Pain meds except for a few Tylenol and he had a fever. But those damn puppy-dog eyes looked at her and there was no truth to her answer, "He'll be fine."

She peeled the cloth off his wound and held back a gag. It smelled like burnt flesh. He'd cauterized it at some point which minimized his risk of infection but made it harder to heal. If he hadn't done it, he probably would have been dead by now from the blood loss. Elijah seemed unaffected by the sight of the bloody stump which surprised and saddened Audrey.

What little warrior monsters this world would undoubtedly create.

With a deep sigh, she pushed her red hair off of her shoulder and got to work. During each step of the sterilizing and caring process, Merle groaned or twitched which she took as a good sign. If he felt pain, it meant that his mind was still fighting for control over his body. He hadn't given up. It was obvious that he was a fighter; a survivor from how they'd found him. Audrey caught herself admiring Merle before she even knew if he was friend or foe—anyone who survives what he'd been through, deserved at least a little respect.

When she was done, all she could do was sit back and wait. And hope. And watch. Because there was no way she would be sleeping with this potential threat in their home.

"Hungry?" she asked softly, shooting Eli a small smile. "We have stale crackers."

Elijah didn't take his eyes off the stranger as he shook his head. Even in poor lighting, she could see the fear in his little brown eyes. It wasn't fear of the stranger but fear of the stranger's imminent demise.

"Well, I think you should eat. I can't have you passing out on me too. Only one fainting person per day—it's the new end-of-the-world rule." She ruffled his hair which he hated but it was retribution for the puppy-dog eyes. "Would you go get that pack of Saltines off the kitchen counter? And we'll share a water."

As he got up again, she watched Merle's face twitch and his body shake with fever. For just a moment, she wondered if she should have just shot him on sight; put a bullet through his head to end his suffering. Human euthanasia. It would have saved her a hell of a lot of trouble and worry. The thought brought tears to her eyes as she mentally cursed herself, wondering just when her humanity had opened the window and took a giant leap into the void. No matter how horrible it was, watching him suffer and shake and writhe in pain—the decision of ending his life wasn't up to her.

"We're going to need more food soon," Audrey mumbled around a mouthful of cracker. As hard as it was to eat while listening to the sound of those deadly nails scratching at their front door, it was a noise they'd grown accustomed to. There wasn't much that fazed either of them these days. "I'm going to make a trip here in the next couple of days."

Elijah took a swig of water and said, "What about Merle? He's going to need someone here with him."

Audrey furrowed her brows. The weird attachment this kid had on this stranger was starting to alarm her. She understood not wanting him to die or get eaten but that stare, with those eyes, indicated an actual _real _concern. Then, she got alarmed for herself since her concern lay more with whether the guy was going to kick it in the middle of the night and turn them into flesh-eaters. Which concern was right? She supposed both of them were. The man was a fellow human being—not something that they saw passing by every day so she figured that it was only right to want to save him. But the way that Eli was looking at him was far beyond wanting another human being to continue living; it was fear and sorrow and hope.

"Hey, you tired?" Audrey asked with a plan in mind.

He replied with a, "nope" but his eyes were blinking slowly. It wasn't late but they had farmer's hours—up with the sun and down with the moon.

Smiling, she put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. The brown mess of hair on his head needed washed and he stunk a little of outside—like when a dog comes in, muddy and scrounged from digging in the flower bed. "You want a story tonight?"

This got his attention. He grinned. "The one about the man and the bear!"

Audrey couldn't help but smile back, refreshed from the sudden rush of innocence in his expression. "Go brush your teeth first."

As Elijah got ready for bed, Audrey grabbed a bucket of clean water, some rags and the hunting knife she rarely used and sat down beside Merle. It was going to be a long night with the man dying on the living room floor but she was going to do all she could for him. Whether it would help or not, she doubted it but the actions would keep her heavy eyelids from closing.

"Ok, I'm ready," Elijah sat down, criss-cross applesauce on the floor beside her, his shoes still on and his duffle bag full of necessities right beside him. It hadn't taken them long to realize that not being prepared to leave at the drop of a hat would only end their lives faster so they made sure that each night before going to sleep, that they could leave in a hurry. "The bear one."

With a growing smile, she sat down and mimicked his position, making sure to keep a close eye on him and the injured stranger just in case he stopped breathing. He seemed to have sunk into a deeper sleep which relieved and worried her – no more twitching or moaning in pain. The sweat was still beading on his forehead and his face was still gray with impending death but his breath whooshed into his broad chest in a stream of lively, forceful air.

"Okay, so this crazy guy named…um…what should we name him?"

Elijah bit his little bottom lip for a moment and glanced at the man beside me. "Merle. Let's call him Merle this time."

The redhead shifted on her bottom and narrowed an eye at the kid, wondering if she needed to have a heart to heart or not. "Okay, we'll call him Merle."

"So, a cold, winter morning, Merle went on a hike in the woods behind his house. It was a beautiful sunny day and as he walked through the woods, he couldn't help but smile at all the amazing things that he'd never noticed before like—"

"Yeah, yeah…birds and flowers and stuff. Let's get to the bear part."

Audrey giggled. "Anxious to get to the good stuff, huh?"

Eli nodded. "The bear. And Merle. In the Cave."

The scratching at the door had grown to a minimum which meant it would be easier for the kid to fall asleep so she told him the story the best she could. She added the growling noises and bared her teeth at exactly the right parts of the story that would make him fold in on himself in a fit of giggles. He loved her little made up tales even though she hadn't told stories like this for twenty years—when her sister Lucy was still alive.

When she was done, she threw a pillow at him and forced him into the corner so he could get some rest. The next day wouldn't be fun for any of them, including Merle—who had started twitching again and the trembling in his body had increased. She watched every muscle that jerked and listened to every groan that escaped his dry lips. It reminded her of those last days with her sister. Lucy was 14 when she was diagnosed with Leukemia and she fought every day until it finally took her life two years later. Audrey, who was two years older, would sit by her sister's bed during those last few months and gossip about school; give each other the occasional make over. However, in those last few days, when Hospice had come in and they'd given her 48 hours to live, she noticed the signs of death starting to take her little sister: The pale, gray skin and beads of sweat that permeated on her upper lip.

This man, Merle, had this look and it took everything in her not to sob because she knew what was coming. As helpless as she was, she felt the strong urge to at least make it easier for him instead of lying on this cold, wooden floor beside strangers. He had to have had a mother and father that cared for him at some point; perhaps he had a wife and children out there, looking for him; depending on him.

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Eli to make sure he was sleeping and then she scooted over, as close as she could get to Merle. Gently, she lifted his head and set it down onto her lap. He roused slightly and opened his eyes—they were a remarkable blue, a soft color for such a hard, sturdy man. As he looked up at her, she managed a small smile and this made his expression change into something that almost resembled suspicion.

"Wha'…what're you doin' here…" he mumbled through his teeth, seemingly angry at her presence.

Her body was stiff with fear and panic but she held her smile as she ran her fingertips through his soft, curly hair. "Shhhh…it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You're going to be fine."

Confusion circled through his eyes and his lips parted. For a moment, she was sure he was going to make an attempt to get up but instead, his body trembled and his eyes slowly closed. With shaky hands, she grabbed a wet cloth and folded it neatly onto his forehead. The shaking grew worse but soon eased into a steady rhythm as she continued to wipe the sweat from his brow and run her fingernails over his scalp. His hand, whether knowingly or subconsciously, moved over her ankle and sort of grasped on to it as if she were holding him back from the very thing he was afraid of—death.

Tears filled her eyes. She didn't know this man but from what she'd witnessed, he was a fighter. A survivor. A man who would do what it took to make sure that he saw tomorrow.

And he was going to die in her arms.

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A/N: Silly goose. He's not going to die! Merle is a survivor. Merle makes The Grim Reaper crap his tighty whities. Next chapter sooooon! Love reviews!


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